


First Rodeo

by merle_p



Category: Walker (TV 2021)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Cowboy Kink, Episode: s01e05 Duke, Light Angst, M/M, Messy, Roleplay, Secret Relationship, Sibling Incest, Size Kink, Smut, Undercover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-17 11:54:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29592414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merle_p/pseuds/merle_p
Summary: “So,” Duke says, grins. “You going to try your luck at karaoke, or do you wanna get out of here?”Cordell is undercover. Liam comes to check on him. Things maybe get a little out of hand.
Relationships: Cordell Walker/Liam Walker
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	First Rodeo

**Author's Note:**

> Excuse me, the writers can't just come up with a scene where Cordell and Liam secretly meet in the backroom of a bar and expect me to not have some thoughts about it.

The insistent smell of cowbarn, sweat, and Clubman Pinaud is the only warning Liam gets before he feels more than sees a guy stepping up to his table from behind.

“Hey, pretty boy,” a gruff voice says, and a glass of tequila is pushed into his line of sight. “Buy you a drink?”

He looks up at his bro– … _no_. He looks up to take in the stranger approaching him: tall, scruffy, in a faded denim jacket and a grubby old baseball hat, staring down at him with a calculating, almost predatory gleam in his eye.

Liam drops his gaze, glances to the side to compose himself, to hide just how nervous he is, how out of his depth he feels in this place.

But the man seems to take his non-answer for an invitation, or maybe he just doesn’t care. He pulls out a chair and folds his long legs up underneath Liam’s table, sets his own shot glass down on the tablecloth next to Liam’s drink.

“So.” The guy leans forward, elbows on the table. Liam catches another whiff of his scent. “What’s a guy like you doing in a place like this?”

“I – uh,” Liam starts, breaks off, utterly mortified at his own awkwardness. “I came for the rodeo.” He lifts his eyes. “Saw you ride.”

“Yeah.” The guy’s smile is wide, lazy, confident. “I noticed you.”

He lifts his glass, clinks it against Liam’s, waits with his hand poised in the air until Liam obediently picks up his own drink, then knocks back his tequila, licks his lips.

“Name’s Duke,” he says. “Who are you?”

Liam downs his shot, feels the comforting, familiar burn in his gut. Liquid courage. God knows he needs it.

“I’m Eddie,” he says, holds out his hand.

Duke lifts his brows, but he accepts the handshake, his palm rough and calloused against Liam’s manicured own.

“Eddie,” Duke drawls, somehow manages to make the name sound like innuendo. “Pretty boy name to a pretty boy face.”

He drops Liam’s hand, looks around the room. The music is loud. It’s getting crowded. No one is paying them any attention.

“So,” Duke says, grins. “You going to try your luck at karaoke, or do you wanna get out of here?”

After the damp, smoky air inside the bar, the cool breeze outside is a bit of a shock, and Liam feels so disoriented that he actually manages to trip as he steps over the threshold. A firm hand briefly cups his elbow, steadying him, but before it even fully registers, the touch disappears again.

Liam shivers a little in his plain t-shirt, glances sideways at Duke’s sturdy jeans, the flannel and the denim jacket, and marvels at how it’s possible to feel both severely over- and underdressed at the same time.

“Hey Duke,” someone calls out from behind them, and Liam’s breath catches in his throat. From the corner of his eye, he can see Duke grow tense beside him, and then, with obvious effort, relax again. When they turn around to identify the speaker, a guy with mean eyes under his cowboy hat is smirking at them.

“You turning in already, man?”

“Afraid so.” Duke scratches the back of his neck, a little awkwardly. “Got something needs taking care of.”

“I bet,” the guy says, giving Liam the once-over, his smile shifting towards salacious. “I, uh –” He cocks his head meaningfully. A challenge. “Didn’t know you swung that way.”

“Eh,” Duke grins, a little self-deprecating but not ashamed, more like it’s something he finds amusing and doesn’t mind all that much getting ribbed about.

“Buckle bunnies, what can you do,” he shrugs carelessly. “Besides, a mouth is a mouth, amiright?”

Liam lowers his head, feels his face heat up with shame, but even as he stares down at his dusty boots, it occurs to him that this is the whole point – give him an excuse to drop his eyes, to turn away so that the other guy won’t get a good look at his face. But even so, that realization is not quite enough to ease the twisted, thrilling humiliation of hearing his brother talk about him like this, of having this _stranger_ say these things when he’s right there at his side.

The guy in the cowboy hat chortles, a grating, unpleasant sound. “Mouth’s a … that’s a good one, Duke, gonna remember that one.” He tips his hat, a mocking salute.

“Don’t wear yourself out, buddy,” he says. “See you tomorrow in the pen.”

Duke nods tightly and waits, motionless, until the other man has disappeared back into the bar. The moment the door swings shut behind the guy, Duke exhales sharply and shudders a little, as if he’s trying to physically shake off the sleaze. 

“Sorry about that,” he murmurs, a hint of genuine regret in his voice. “Had to –“

Liam lifts a hand to cut him off, shakes his head in a silent _It’s alright_. Because he can hear Cordell in that apology, and that’s no good – he’s turned around enough already about this thing, and the whiplash of going between Duke’s brazen confidence and his brother’s caring concern only serves to make it worse.

“Where are we going?” he asks instead, relieved when his voice comes out mostly steady, and Duke traps him under an assessing look before he finally points to the right with a tilt of his chin.

“This way,” he says quietly. “Got a small camper back by the horse trailers.”

He starts to walk without even looking over his shoulder to see if Liam follows him, and Liam blindly stumbles after him across the dark fairgrounds, stomach clenched in terrified anticipation, and thinks it probably says something about their lives that this feeling is so familiar.

The trailer is no-frills, banged up, and too small for a man like Duke. Or maybe it’s Duke who is too tall. Either way, he has to duck his head when he steps through the door, and when Liam climbs into the camper after him, it feels like Duke is taking up all the air in the narrow space.

Liam closes the door and carefully locks it from the inside, because the last thing they need is an unexpected visitor walking in on them. He turns around, draws in a shaky breath because Duke is right there, crowding him back against the door, radiating barn smell and body heat and pent-up tension, and Liam feels his knees go a little weak even though they aren’t touching yet.

He feels exposed under Duke’s intense, probing gaze, feels unsettled by the realization that he cannot get a read on his expression because Duke is a stranger he just met today.

“Okay?” Duke finally asks, voice rough, not quite rodeo cowboy gentling a spooked calf, not quite a sibling checking in with his baby bro, and Liam licks his lips and tilts up his face and says, with as much bravado as he can muster:

“Why do you think I’m here?”

And Liam is well aware that this _isn’t_ why he’s here tonight, not technically anyway, and he knows the other man knows it too, but it still seems to be the right answer, because something sparks in Duke’s hard, tired eyes, and then his hand is on Liam’s jaw and his mouth on Liam’s lips, and there’s really nothing else to say. 

Duke tastes of cheap booze and cigarettes, and he kisses like he owns Liam, nips at Liam’s bottom lip with sharp teeth, opens him up with a demanding tongue, and it should feel presumptuous, even insulting, but instead every attack sends jolts of electricity through Liam’s body, and he can’t remember the last time he felt turned on like this.

He groans into the kiss, lets his fingers roam over broad shoulders, a bulging bicep, the wide expanse of Duke’s chest, and Duke responds by sliding his hands down Liam’s back, further and further, until they finally come to rest on Liam’s ass.

Liam’s breath stutters. Duke palms the curve of his ass, digs strong fingers into the muscle, teases the top of Liam’s crack with his thumb, and then he pulls him in, bringing their hips together, and Liam chokes out a moan when he feels the hard length of Duke’s cock press into his front.

“I need,” he says against Duke’s jaw, his lips dragging against the four-day stubble, and _fuck_ , he’s going to have beard burn tomorrow that he won’t know how to explain, but right now he can’t possibly bring himself to care.

He pushes at Duke’s chest, tries to put some distance between their bodies, just enough for him to slip out of Duke’s grip and drop to his knees. “ _I need_ ,” he says again, inanely, and Duke seems to understand what he’s asking, because his hands come down to cradle the back of Liam’s head, fingers tangling in his hair.

“Yeah, okay,” he says hoarsely, and Liam leans in, mouths the outline of his cock through those ridiculous, hideous jeans, and arousal surges through him when he can feel Duke’s cock twitch in response even through the heavy fabric of his pants.

Part of him wants to draw it out, wants to tease Duke, wants to see if he can get him to beg just by playing with his clothed dick a little more. But he knows they are both too keyed up, too far gone already, too _starved_ , and anyway he is pretty sure that he must have left whatever little dignity he has in the car tonight.

He fumbles with Duke’s belt, almost slices his finger open on the zipper in his haste to pull it down, impatiently tugs aside the plain white briefs, and then finally, finally wraps his hand around that cock, already rock-hard for him and leaking, and he feels his mouth water at the sight.

Because Liam is not a prude, he _likes_ giving head, has had plenty of dick in his life, but it’s just his luck that in all the fifteen years since his first fumbling experimentation, he has never come across a cock that quite compares to the one that’s in front of him right now.

So here he is – upstanding Texan citizen, obedient son, one of the youngest Assistant D.A.s in the district’s history – on his knees in a dirty rodeo trailer like a little come slut practically gagging to suck his brother’s enormous cock.

It’s a thought that by all means should make him want to run, cross state lines, get as far away as he can - but as it is, the effect it has on him is quite the opposite, and he has to press his left hand against his groin for a second to make sure he doesn’t come on the spot the moment he slides his lips over the tip.

It’s not pretty. It never is. It’s watering eyes and an aching jaw and spit dripping down his chin, and the desperate frustration he feels when he hits his limit, when his throat protests and he has to accept that sheer willpower is not enough to do what he really wants and cram it all in, gag reflex be damned.

But Duke doesn’t seem to mind the mess he’s making, doesn’t seem to care that he can’t take it all: his breath is coming in stuttering spurts, his hips are jerking helplessly despite his obvious efforts to keep himself under control, and his big hands are hot on Liam’s face, holding him in place, smearing saliva and tears all over his cheeks.

“Look at you,” he mutters, traces Liam’s lips with his index finger, tries to slip the finger into Liam’s mouth alongside his cock, gives up when Liam gags with the strain, and moves on to caress his hair as if Liam’s a foal demanding to be pet.

“Look at you,” he groans, “look at your mouth, you were made for this, weren’t you,” and Liam sobs around his cock and does his best to prove him right, cherishes the lightheaded dizzy rush he knows to mean that he isn’t getting enough air, slides a hand underneath Duke’s cock to play with his tight, heavy balls, and that, predictably, is all it takes to send Duke over the edge.

His fingers tighten in Liam’s hair, his hips slam forward, and Liam chokes on a mouthful of come, struggles to swallow, sputters, feels stickiness trailing down his chin as he gasps.

He pulls off, draws in an almost painful breath, tries to remember which way is up, and then there are large hands under his armpits, pulling him up to standing, holding him in place when he sways, and finally a pair of strong arms wraps around him, enveloping him in a tight embrace.

Liam sighs and allows himself to sink into the hug, lets his forehead drop against his brother’s shoulder, because there is no question that this embrace is all Cordell, and _Jesus Christ_ but Liam has missed him so fucking much.

Eventually, he feels composed enough to raise his head, and finds Cordell looking at him with a wry smile on his face. It’s afterglow high mixed with wistful fondness and a touch of regret, and Liam is amazed at how he can suddenly read Cordell like an open book now that the mask has finally come off.

“Hey,” Cordell says softly. He lifts a hand to cup the side of Liam’s face, runs his thumb along the underside of Liam’s bottom lip, then slips it into Liam’s mouth, lets him lick the smudge of come off the pad of his finger like it’s a treat.

“Hey,” Liam responds once his mouth is no longer occupied. He smiles up at Cordell, a little shakily. “Uh,” he says. “That was –”

“Yeah,” Cordell says dryly, a hint of amusement in his eyes. “It sure was.” He pulls off his baseball cap, flings it onto the narrow table, drags long fingers through his hair.

“There’s water in the fridge, if you want some.” He steps away, moves to take off his jacket.

“Condoms are on the counter. Give me fifteen minutes to get out of this outfit and pull down the bed, then I can fuck you properly.”

The wave of want Liam feels rolling over him almost blindsides him, but when he looks up at Cordell, he can _see_ Duke’s expression quietly creeping back into his eyes, and he reaches out quickly, wraps his hand around Cordell’s wrist before his brother can slip away.

“Wait, wait,” he says urgently, “wait, just a second.” Cordell pauses, gives him a questioning look, and Liam swallows.

“Are you – are you doing okay?”

For a split second, Cordell’s face cracks open, and Liam sees everything. This isn’t Duke, the drifting rodeo cowboy with the dark past. It’s not even Walker, Texas Ranger, with his easy smile and over-confident charm. This is a face that Liam suspects only two, maybe three people in the world ever got to see, and in that brief moment Cordell looks so lonely, so lost, that Liam’s heart aches with it.

But before he can even start to think about something to say, find a way to make it better, the moment is over, and Liam watches Cordell’s face shutter in front of his eyes.

“Sure, I’m okay,” Cordell says steadily, not-quite-but-almost convincingly, and gives Liam’s shoulder a reassuring pat, clear sign that this is all he’s going to get.

And just like that, Cordell is gone, and Liam is looking at a stranger again, one who is trailing his eyes over Liam’s body with an appreciative smile.

“So now that you’ve seen it,” Duke asks speculatively. “What are your thoughts on rodeo?”

“Uh.” Liam – no, no, wait, _Eddie_ blushes. “I liked it.” He bites his lips, looks up at Duke from underneath his lashes. “Pretty intense.”

“Intense, huh,” Duke smirks, eyes dark. “That’s one way to put it.”

He starts to unbutton his shirt. “Well, come on then, babe,” he says. “Show me how you take to being ridden.”

He shrugs the shirt off his shoulders, grins when he sees Eddie’s eyes lingering on his chest.

“I wanna see if you are trained, _Eddie_ , or if you need to be broken in.”

**Author's Note:**

> "Clubman Pinaud" is a cheap aftershave brand that comes in plastic bottles, similar to the one Walker uses in the episode. 
> 
> "Buckle bunnies" are rodeo groupies, usually female.


End file.
